tell me the horizon
by codependency
Summary: "Tell me the horizon," she whispers, "tell me everything you see so I can see it just the way you do. -—DominiqueLysander, burning up and breaking down. For Isha.


This DomLy is for Isha, who (along with Amy) converted me to DominiqueLysander. She's my daughter, one of my best online friends and I really don't know what I'd do without her. Love you, Isha, and I hope you enjoy this. And, yes, I'm insanely starting another multichap because I'm strange. ;)

Also, I apologise for the bad cover image, I was just experimenting around. And it's Karen Gillian, in case you've been living under a rock for a few years.

Consider this disclaimed.

* * *

Lights spread across the London horizon, but Dominique cannot see them. She cannot see the beauty and the glory of them; cannot see his face as he tells her goodbye, that he can't deal with her anymore. She is standing in her apartment, blind, and she has never felt more alone.

She wasn't always like this. Once, she had dreams, hopes and aspirations. She could see the stars that shone so bright, and she wasn't surrounded only by darkness. Once, she was in love with a guy who loved her back. Now, she isn't so sure.

If only she could get up and leave, fly away from the London apartment that she and Lysander share, but she can't move, won't move. To leave would be to admit defeat, and Dominique will not—will _never_—admit defeat. To admit defeat would be to deny and cast aside everything that she is, and that is one thing that she will never do.

Still, standing by the window staring out at lights she will never see, she feels like she's been defeated. What can she do? She's alone in a strange city, and she doesn't even have her eyes to help her, doesn't even know if she's still the beautiful girl she once was. She curses at her life, her miserable life that she shouldn't have to bear, and yet she's stuck in it, and she's stuck on her own in a London flat that she can't even see.

Maybe he's still standing outside the door, his eyes closed, and his fists clenched, the way Dominique has seen him many times before. More likely, she thinks, maybe he's run off and is wandering around the city, looking for a place of refuge for the night, not wanting to see her again. It hurts, imagining all the places that he could be when the only place he should be is by her side—that's where he belongs, right?

It's not fair, she thinks, that a blind girl should be stuck alone in an dingy flat, waiting for her lover to return and fall back into her arms. Of course, her life has never been fair, with everyone getting everything she deserved, and Dominique always getting left on the sidelines unless she threw herself into the spotlight. They're a brutal match; both of them much too similar to stay in the same room for very long without a fight breaking out.

Her fingers trace over the window ledge, picking up specks of dust, and she wishes that she had something she could do while the time went by. The clock ticks, and yet she's got no way of knowing what the time is—that's Lysander's job. She hates being so dependent on him, and right now, she just hates him, and that's not a good sign.

Another explosive argument had happened, just like they always did, and Dominique can't even remember what it was about. All she can remember is Lysander standing still—she could tell by the fact that she couldn't hear him moving—and then turning and leaving the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

Her fingers trace around the flat, trying to figure out what went wrong, but she cannot figure it out. She sinks down into an armchair that she knows is there, and she relives every moment that she's every lived with Lysander by her side, and tries to recall the times when she was happy.

She will not allow herself to cry. She is Dominique Weasley, and she does not cry.

.

He walks along the busy streets. It is past midnight, but he is not scared. He's Lysander Scamander, and he's tough, and nobody could fight him off. His fists are clenched tight, and his breathing is ragged as he walks at top speed, as if Dominique could follow him out of the flat at any moment.

He doesn't know anymore, and that's the full truth. He doesn't know what's right and what's wrong and he doesn't know why he's tearing apart his life and throwing Dominique away with it. At the end of the day, no matter how many obstacles were thrown at them, the biggest obstacle was the two of them.

Nothing makes any sense to him anymore, not even the fact that he's wandering around London knowing that he can't go home for a few hours. He blocks the thoughts from his mind of Dominique waiting all alone in the flat for him, because he doesn't want to think about her anymore. Not for a few hours, at least. He'll find a bar where he can sit and drink and forget all about the woman he loves, and he pretends that that's okay.

He knows that it's not okay.

Why can't everything just be okay like it was before?

.

Theirs is not a love story because what they have cannot be described as love, or at least, not anymore. It's an eternal cycle made of drunken slurs and smashed glasses and tears that fall far more often than they should. It's not love, and both of them know that they need to leave.

But they don't.

They never do.

.

He will not come back tonight, and she knows it. She will not move from the armchair, but instead she will flick through memories in her mind like she's looking through the pages of a dusty photo album. She will remember it all, she will hold onto every single small insignificant memory.

Because, once, she was in love with a man named Lysander Scamander, and he was in love with her. Once they were everything and numbness was only a feeling in their fingers when the air got too cold. Even then, there was always someone to keep them warm, always something to turn darkness into light, cold into warmth and hate into love.

She will remember the times they were happy because it is always best to end on a good note, and even as a cynical Slytherin, she knows that.

She must end it well; she will go out with a bang and leave the world behind marveling at the fireworks she traces in the sky.

Why? Because tonight is the night that Dominique Weasley dies.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it, and it wasn't too bad to read. :/ I didn't get it beta'd but I'll check it through again tomorrow for mistakes.

Dominique's blindness and the nature of her relationship with Lysander shall be explored later - I know there are a lot of questions right now, but they shall all be answered in due course. :)

Please don't favourite/alert without reviewing. :)


End file.
